


Of Dogs and Men

by Gilli_ann



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night in their tent, fairly late in Jack and Ennis' relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dogs and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but belong to Annie Proulx, Diana Ossana, Larry McMurtry and Focus Features. I make no profit and intend no copyright infringement.

  


In the compact darkness inside Jack’s new fancy tent, Ennis woke to someone panting exaggeratedly next to him, a head butting his repeatedly, and a couple of slow purposeful growls in his ear. Sharp teeth caught his earlobe and pulled at it, worried at it, before a soft tongue replaced them and smoothed out the sting.

Immediately wide awake and ready for anything he rolled over, pinning his assailant. “Goddammit Jack, you turn into one a them blue heelers in the night?”

Jack bucked under him, not trying to break free, just making a point. He laughed and snorted, the kind of infectiously happy mood that used to be his trademark once, but which now very rarely came over him.

“You like it like this, Ennis, don’t you, rollin’ around in the dark with me? Yeah, feel this, already got my paws in the air for you.” He bucked again, limbs flailing. “Wanna scratch my tummy, bud? Or....”

A sudden kick and twist rolled them back over, Jack breaking free and back in charge again, his night mood so high and bedroll grin so wide Ennis could feel it, all of it, even in a darkness solid enough to hide Jack’s sparkling eyes and flashing teeth from view.

Pulling at the bedroll and blankets, gaining access to every part of Ennis, Jack placed a couple of hot wet kisses - slobbering, lots of tongue - along his neck and collarbone.

“Practically lickin’ your hand here, Ennis…lickin’ all I can reach… You got no treat for me? Hmmm? Perhaps I can find something juicy and tasty to put my mouth on anyway… huh…yeah.”

Jacks head butted against his chest again, leaving a wet trail, moving down. A soft laugh tickled Ennis where he felt it the most. Words floated up to him out of the darkness.

“You waggin’ your tail good at me here, friend. Who’s a good doggie now? Happy to see me, ain’t ya?" Tasting, slurping and licking, getting serious about it now, Jack quit the talking and started humming instead. The vibrations spread right through Ennis like electric currents, every nerve coming alive, every last part of him snapping and sparkling.

Ennis wasn’t good at word games and banter when they were going at it, never had been. Didn’t get the point of trying, though he sure liked Jack’s teasing dirty-talk way more than he ever let on about - it both relaxed him and turned him on. Wry comments he could otherwise manage well enough, but action always had to speak for him when words clogged in his throat like this, when his mind misted over with pure, primal craving. 

Ennis groaned. He was so far gone already, he didn't have another second to waste on fun and games now, but proceeded without hesitation to let full-throttle action make his case, showed Jack just how much that playful, purposeful mood pleased him. 

Disjointed words and phrases flitted through his brain – yes, darlin’, good, goddamn, ohfuckohfuck!- and somehow they connected in his mind, but he let them slip, let pure sensation take over.

* * * * 

Afterwards he pulled Jack close, tight against his shoulder, - both of them still breathing heavily - and reached out, patting the ground near the bedroll for his pack of smokes. Fumbling in the dark he found what he needed and managed to light up, the sudden flicker of fire and the glowing ember illuminating the tent interior with a faint ghostly glow. He could see Jack rubbing himself where Ennis recently had had his teeth, a tender spot on his skin in that soft enticing hollow where shoulder and arm connected.

Moving lazily all the while and chuckling contentedly, Jack nudged Ennis in the ribs. “Always knew you bite much worse than you bark, friend.” 

Soothing smog settled in Ennis’s lungs, resting there sweetly for a moment before swirling back into the air, his lips releasing each puff of smoke with a fond caress.

The weight of Jack against his body, relaxed, sated and damp … Ennis drew breath after deep breath - smell of the both of them ripe and pungent in the air. He felt so right and so good, he needed all the air and smoke his lungs could possibly hold, was making sure he kept this feeling warm and well fed, glowing, content - alive.

Jack finished tending to the bite mark and relaxed, arching his back to let go of the last lingering remnants of muscle strain, settling back bonelessly, wordlessly.

“How come you haven’t got a dog, then?” Ennis asked, drowsy curiosity appearing out of nowhere, reaching back to connect with Jack’s joking jibes in the night, tender tone complementing smoke-laced darkness. 

“Hunh, Jack? Seem to remember you loved a lil’dog so well, cared for all a them, back on Brokeback," he mused, fond little smile tugging at his lips. "And those dogs sure as hell minded you good, too.”

Jack moved against him, a perceptible twitch, an uneasy shrug, shoulders tensing noticeably. His voice returned from infinite space, suddenly serious and hesitant, - revealing hints of resignation and resentment where Ennis had expected to uncover nothing more than bright and easy yapping. 

Ennis realized too late that he’d somehow unintentionally left the safe path and brought them to slippery, treacherous ground. Jack’s reply came slow and strangely flat, like a tale of long suffered loss.

“Christ, Ennis. Lureen doesn't want no dog, no way. They are messy, you know. And loud. Even with a kennel….. Bobby would’a liked a dog but he’s a scatterbrain if ever there was one, and so spoilt by his grandda and grandma, he’d forget to take care of the thing after one week, I’m sure. And I – I’m away too much. Not around. Workin'. Travellin’. Could bring it with me some, I guess, but… no. Just wouldn’t work for shit.”

He shrugged again, grabbed Ennis’s hand with the smoke and inhaled deeply, ravenously, Ennis feeding him comfort and heat from the palm of his hand.

“Not worth the hassle,” Jack muttered. “Hell, no. Get one when I’m old, maybe.”

He reached out, took another deep drag of smoke.

Being reminded of the dog he didn't own had somehow ambushed Jack, blindsided him with a dirty punch to the gut where only a caress had been intended, brought down his tenuous defenses against the hollow empty longing for everything he wanted badly, but couldn’t ever have. Lots of good or stupid or plain senseless reasons why not, none that made the longing easier. Especially not tonight, not just here and now, when he could see and touch and smell and feel and immerse himself fully in what he longed for the most, what he kept missing so much he could hardly stand it; – that life he craved to the point of despair sometimes, yet knew to be every bit as elusive as a puff of smoke in the night air, impossible to catch, impossible to hold. 

Not owning a dog and every other minor or major disappointment be damned, he wanted Ennis. Always Ennis.

Jack exhaled heavily, audibly. Felt stupid and guilty all of a sudden. Things had been so damn good just moments ago, and now….

“S’alright,” he muttered, feeling a need to leave this, let be, and take them back to the quiet and serene place they had just left behind. “Christ, no matter, forget it, s’alright.”

Grabbig for the tattered remains of the good feelings that had been accidentally ripped to shreds, he valiantly made an attempt to lighten the mood. "Besides, what’d I want a dog for when I know I got your sweet brown puppy-dog eyes waitin’ for me in the mountains, always so eager and ready and pleadin’ for more?”

Ennis snorted helplessly, breathing in all those unspoken words, feeling them rip their way into his chest, suffocating him and tearing at his heart with claws of tire-iron steel. He wondered whether he should play along, maybe growl in reply, something, - anything to help bring them back to safe ground. Perhaps find one more soft part of Jack that could do with a proper bite mark to distract them both? But the mood had turned irrevocably, stealing his voice, turning “s’alright” to “too late, no way, can’t be” in his mind. 

The moment escaped him, and clumsy mute darkness settled heavily around them as Ennis put out the smoke, coughed, tightened his hold on Jack, said nothing.

The imminent danger of so many unspoken words on restless prowl in the dark made him tense, made him hunch, noiseless and immobile, averting both his thoughts. For a moment Ennis seemed to hear belligerent coyote yips in the distance, but he couldn’t be sure - the sound was weak and far off. It effortlessly blended into their shared silence, chiming loudly in his ears.


End file.
